I have problems again this morning with my stroppy pet, that's Doggo not L. I'm last to leave the house and I have to pull a tactical manoeuvre on him. I close the lounge door which naturally causes him to go hide in the bedroom, so I go and stand outside. It took a while, because I’m sure he knew it was a ruse, but eventually curiosity got the better of him and he had to come to see what I was doing, at which point I quickly shut the bedroom door on him and left. He looked furious.
It takes a while but after to getting to work, in the car, my legs slowly start coming back into use. L's had no choice but to recover quicker than me because she's had to cycle to the physio this morning and to top it all she's done the gym as well.
The physio says she's got a misaligned kneecap. It points in the wrong direction. This makes her 10k time yesterday seem even better, can't have been easy with her knees pointing in different directions. She has some exercises to do, which is something to look forward to. I'm sure Doggo is too, he loves joining in.
Someone presents me with today’s paper with the 10k results in. There’s also a video on ‘This Is Derbyshire’ of everyone crossing the bridge at the start and not a bad shot of me.
L's already told me that she needs to have something in her diary for after Derby, so we’re already booked into the Underwood 10k, which is... err... this Sunday. So no rest for the wicked and what's more this is going to be my birthday treat... Joy.
What's worse is she's suggesting triathlons for me as well. I tell her she sounds like my agent. She says she is, my errant father is my photographer, and my personal trainer is currently curled up on our sofa. Well as long as my agent promises to de-stress my personal trainer and I in the pub afterwards, I shall look into it.
I uncover a scandal in Sainsbury's, when I disturb a couple of adulterers down by the breakfast cereals. I had to interrupt their argument to reach for my Weetaflakes. She was apologising for not being round to see him because she hadn't been able to get away from her husband. She also assured him it was all over with Ian. How many has she got on the go? A cereal offender down by the Weetaflakes. Sorry couldn't resist but you just couldn't make it up. Oh go on then, it wasn't by the Weetaflakes but in the next aisle by the cakes but it was close enough. She's clearly having her cake and eating it too.
Dog class in the evening, in which Doggo performs without pace and without weaving, a bit like the weekend. Hmmmm.